Harmagadón
, and are killed by . * destroys the Athrugadhi capital of Ardor * curses himself to kill Macaranghrian * succumbs to the crystal's curse and dies *A new breed of Phoenix is birthed from remains *The Magicka Plague breaks out * * ascends to power as Emperor of Athrugadh. * ascends to power as Overlord of Scourge * is formed * is exiled and branded a war criminal |side1= |side2= |side3= |commanders1= * |commanders2= * * |commanders3= |commanders4= |forces1= * * * |forces2= * * * |forces3= |forces4= |casual1= |casual2= *~1,000 Garhorn's Anvil fighters *~800 Crawl raiders |casual3=Macaranghrian |casual4= |civilian=25 million |prev=Cursing of Macaranghrian |conc= *The February Crisis *Assassination of Go'Che'Gvro'Gi |next=Coronation of Emperor Oswallt Vaughan |theme= *The Siege of Barknor *Harmagadón *The True Measure of a God *Ice of the Phoenix }} The most devastating disaster in Ariilythian history, Harmagadón, known also as the Ardor Incident, was the catastrophe that befell the Athrugadhi capital of Ardor on the 2nd of Febuary 1247 CE. The plentiful consequences of which were voluminous enough to warrant the recognised end of an age to the Ariilythian people. Prelude Theiwin Du'antiil, the Solasist leader of the terrorist faction: Scourge, had sworn bloody retribution on Emperor Aodhain Fhion for the Solasist Purge - the smoke screened genocide wrought upon the Solasist Church - which had snuffed Theiwin's family and very community away from him, forever. Come the dawn of 1247 CE, seven years following a mass conspiracy in coalition with Harringoth Vorynn and High General Garhorn, Du'antiil had long amassed an army at his beck and call, and revealed himself at last, changing galactic history forever. Believing himself to be the prophet of the Solasist god: Macaranghrian, Du'antiil had prepared to launch a righteous crusade against his most reviled enemy when the opportunity presented itself. In the meantime, Aodhain and Theiwin clashed in a brutal PR war which severely hacked away at the already faltering sanity of the former, eventually driving him beyond the brink of insanity. Little did Theiwin know that Emperor Aodhain, alongside his trusted mage adviser, and surrogate father: Archmagister Emyr Malrithen, had descried, ambushed, and captured Macaranghrian in retaliation to the Scourge of Scourge's threats. In the Great Firebird's incarceration, Aodhain, out of unhinged and flickering spite and a developing god complex over besting a god, subjected the Emperor Phoenix as a test dummy while researching the anomalous crystals on the planet of Sarōtamā - the only known planet in the galaxy completely saturated in magicka. Enigmatic in nature, a singular crystal native to Sarōtamā bore a complex web of mystical structure. Despite so, Malrithen succeeded in ascertaining one crucial function of them, one most hazardous even for a god. Upon learning of it, the hateful and deranged Aodhain used it to curse Macaranghrian, binding him to one of the crystals. Upon returning to Ardor, Emperor Aodhain's long developing lunacy came to a climax in the infamous February Crisis. Meanwhile, Theiwin Du'antiil was contacted by Aodhain's fiercest political rival, and conspirator - Lochlainn Comhairle: the toxic grey smoke. An agent of chaos, Lord Comhairle revealed to the zealot: Macaranghrian's plight, and in forceful rage, Du'antiil declared the crusade begun. That was, however, not the end of Lochlainn's involvement. The snake went the extra mile, and secretly invested his aid and resources in Theiwin. Being a Court Councillor, and powerful in his own right behind the scenes, this aid would be substantially crucial, and would work to essentially cripple the interior defences of Ariilyth for Theiwin's siege to come. On the Scourge side of the conflict, Harringoth, a moralist playing an intricate game, sought to lessen the civilian casualties in the attack. Theiwin would kill no innocents, for he branded himself a saviour of the people. Yet, there was a dormant bull among Scourge's leadership, preparing to charge its horns. This bull was actually a five foot, bug-like alien called Go'Che'Gvro'Gi - leader of the Crawl. Theiwin could reign in the others, yet this creature who abided by a doctrine of pure conquest, would not relent on any of the unsuspecting organic life within the city. Go'Che'Gvro'Gi was not difficult to be dispatched. The problem lay in his relation to Harringoth. The bug was his closest friend, and his only companion to travel far with him from his native galaxy. Harringoth sacrificed this bond, psychologically manipulating Garhorn into murdering Go'Che, and ensuring the Crawl would endanger no innocent below. The Siege of Barknor Lochlainn met Theiwin and his fleets at the pre-established coordinates somewhere within Athrugadh, and there set course for Ithir in Lochlainn's ship - a cruiser that had been reported 'missing' since 1246 CE. The signal received by security was clearly, however, one of Lochlainn's and thus they were obliged to allow entry. Lochlainn brought Theiwin and his assault force to Barknor Keep where Lochlainn's sleeper agents were now scraping at the Red Order within. After warning Comhairle not to not "be the part of this plan to fall through." Theiwin and his party shuttled down into the courtyard of the castle, doors already opened by the goodwill of Lord Comhairle. Meanwhile, the comparatively pacified Crawl, Hoplites, and Anvil - the latter two led by Tyrakk and Hammer, washed upon the planet in overwhelming swarms. Their goal was not to take the city, but to distract from Barknor for Theiwin to unleash the ultimate weapon. Clad in a suit of power armour and wielding Garhorn's own chaingun, Theiwin and his party besieged Barknor Keep with sanctified fury. The wrath of Scourge, combined with Lochlainn's Warhead proving much even for the legendary Knights of Ardor. Until, eventually their painted blood-trail followed them to a gigantuous hall to rival High Dún's narthex, for nothing less could hold captive the great Macaranghrian, and there he was, bound upon some contraption, resilient yet constrained by the antimagic seeping into his body. Theiwin's eyes lit with euphoric bliss, until the sole surviving knight before him cackled at his coming, Theiwin looked upon the figure, at first with passive intent to kill, yet held the fire of his gun as that of his rage flickered wilder. It is at this moment that Lochlainn, comfortable and smugly satisfied at the helm of his ship, received intel that shrivelled his smile. Enough so was his panic that he impulsively ran for the nearest shuttle, destined for Barknor of all places, for within the fortress, clamouring and cackling unhinged, bearing a flaming sword and a phoenix on his shoulder, was a reproached wretch of a man: the now completely insane Emperor Aodhain. Aodhain who openly, and smitten in his brainsick delusion proclaimed himself a true god for both Macar and his subject to witness, while portraying less grace than even a primitive man, taunting his most hated rival over his prize. Theiwin looked upon Macaranghrian, and then to Aodhain, declaring that the latter was unworthy of hosting such a creature, before pulling from his holster: a hand cannon, and firing at Gwylindil on Aodhain's shoulder with enough punch to scatter his ashes beyond the point of resurrection. Witnessing his lifelong companion be brutally ripped apart and disintegrated into scattered ashes took Aodhain in a choking grip. The tragedy thrust him back into some species of reality, as he realised he could do nothing to save Gwylindil. Flying into unhinged frenzy, Aodhain launched his sword at Theiwin, which simply broke upon contact with his armour, but distracted him enough for Aodhain to draw his tau shotgun and fire at Theiwin's lower abdomen, shattering his initial protection, and forcing him into a hunch. The Firebird responded with two quick blasts from his hand cannon, the first striking Aodhain by the thigh and forcing him to kneel, as the other struck his shotgun. Aodhain simultaneously fired another shot just before he lost his weapon, which worsened the impact, and near shattered his thankfully augmented wrist. The shot, none-the-less, blasted the protective mask off from Theiwin's helmet, and revealed his scorching face, set alight by the fire his helmet was emitting. A wrathful cloak of hungered flames smothered the very air about Aodhain, yet he commanded it entirely. He rose to his feet at last. The spurting combustion of Theiwin's charred face accelerated, and cloaked the Scourge of Scourges sick shock at finding a proper rival. He taunted Aodhain over Gwylindil, prompting the king of cinder to propel a firestream at Theiwin's weapon, melting it. Aodhain then proceeded to blink away in a trail of flames. The fighting continued in what seemed like a stalemate with Aodhain constantly propelling himself through a blinking trail of flame, ceasing only to assault Theiwin with a fireball. Theiwin, however, patiently studied his movements and predicted when he would next stop to attack. He caught Aodhain out and punched him into the ashes of his beloved firebird. Du'antill clenched Aodhain by the hair and collar, and spun him to face the ashes of Gwylindil, before dousing his head into them, brushing the Emperor back and forth like a broom. Desperate, and in immense pain, Aodhain cupped some of the ashes and unsteadily launched them into Theiwin's eyes. The pain was brief for Du'antiil, who ripped Aodhain out from the ashes and dashed his head against the controls to Macaranghrian's machine. Eventually the machinery started to hum, and Theiwin dragged Aodhain before the Emperor Phoenix, forcing him to kneel. Before his lord most holy, in a messianic form, the Prophet bid Macaranghrian ignite the Third Phoenix Empire, and extinguish the pretending spark of Aodhain Fhion. Though, the returning eyes brimmed no kindness. Theiwin, confused at first, came to peace with his fate. Accepting his coming death with bliss, while sadistically sated in his defeat of Aodhain. The Emperor bore no dignity, however, breaking down into tears that evaporated before they hit the ground. Macaranghrian burst forth with ravenous flame, surging the entire castle into rubble with his exit. So ended the tale of Aodhain Fhion and Theiwin Du'antiil. Macaranghrian's, however, was far from finished. The brazen monster set its piercing eyes on the city of Ardor before it, and loud grew its wings. The Blaze of Ardor By the string of a hair, Macaranghrian missed Lochlainn as he was approaching the gates, arching high and spreading to its most majestic, and terrifying form. At Goldwing, Emyr Malrithen and the Dorchadroi were holding back the Scourge hordes as they piled into the Golden Circle surrounding the palace, unaware of his son's demise. His senses attuned beyond the natural human peak allowed him to hear the chimed wings drum the air like thunder, only five seconds before the rest of the entire city could hear it. Like a ballistic missile, the Phoenix of Mass chute clean through a skyscraper, and several beneath it. None of them slowed his volatile impulse. The monster soared low to surge the streets with fire, furious and fowl, incinerating clamouring city's folk fleeing in the thousands with rapacity unceasing. Malrithen had vanished from his position, abandoning the palace defence, and his Dorchadroi as well, and re-materialised at the hill which had once held Barknor aloft with high pride, now a slump of rock and rubble. After five minutes of clearing the mounds of debre, he found the shattered machine that had held the great prisoner. Opening a hatch from it, he pulled out a crystal, and felt tendrils annex his inner body. Grimly, the wizard looked onward to the city where he saw towers fall in line after line like dominoes. He teleported away, accepting his fate, as did the ill fairing Dorchadroi deep amidst the chaos. Macaranghrian flew to the coastal edge of the city, where artillery and missiles battered him. Wounded, the destroyer dived headfirst into the ocean and vanished. The police began to evacuate what remaining civilians were left, as the army marched onto the shore to stand against a god. A squad of submarines were dispatched to smoke out Macar, wading through quiet waters, scanning for life. The waters began to thrash and jolt, and denying the privilege of time, Macaranghrian burst forth from the sea, sundering the waters like an airborne Kraken. His feathers were blue, and he was no longer aflame. However, this did not prevent the shoreline defence from standing. Yet as the distance closed with every heartbeat, all watchers could see something arise behind Macaranghrian, like a wall stretching far and wide, growing up to fifty metres - it was a tsunami. Immediately the troops began to evacuate the area, yet nothing could escape the watery jaw as it drowned the coast. Macaranghrian landed upon a homely tower, and basked in the embrace of the Sun's warmth, envisioning a proud smile on his father's face as a grateful gust of wind called him to fly. Macaranghrian propelled himself from his momentary roost, and readied himself to meet the altitude, but a sudden saccade of pain etched through him, and the Great Firebird fell into the road. Confusion amok, the phoenix looked to the sky, seeing the sun sinking to cower behind a blanket of mountains. Macar eyed it closely, unable to identify it as his guide and protector, as it glowed a different shade and size. Unable to even comprehend the vast sea of stars in the galaxy, Macaranghrian realised he was on another world, and Risolas had expanded his influence, secretly discarding him on Ingos. Furiously, the bird changed form again, this time to an icy blue, and radiated frost over fire. This neglected son shot into the air and over the mountains, chasing the alien sun for several kilometres, though grew weaker with every mile. With Coras Athrugadh seemingly inbound, Macra-Na-Ghrian unhinged his prophesied beak, denying the star's warmth, and bearing annexing stamina, staggering and falling deeper to the unkind world below with every bit of fatigue that struck him. As he witnessed the sun finally set beyond the horizon with a grim blink of red, a depleted Macaranghrian reared his head upwards to echo defiance, majestic and awe-seizing, yet all the Phoenix of Ice did was croak and lifelessly shuttle straight back to Ithir as a comet would. His carcass disintegrating into flakes of frost which blanketed the once green fields, and there, from that blinding white under twilight night, thousands upon thousands of white phoenixes were born. Aftermath Category:Battles Category:Events Category:Ariilyth